


Say Goodnight

by TheGeekyFangirl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:52:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGeekyFangirl/pseuds/TheGeekyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason James Moriarty never gets his hands dirty.  Sebastian Moran is about to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Goodnight

Jim's POV

He was about to fall asleep in my arms. His breathing slowed and steadied to constant rhythm. It was relaxing to listen to after a long day out. Well, for him. I wasn't tired one bit, but was content holding my tiger. We had been out suit shopping, oddly enough. Never bothered me, in fact I had always enjoyed it. But Sebastian had been a bit testy. I'd get mad if it wasn't right, and all he wanted to do was shoot the seamstress in the neck. Not the best combination in the world.

He looked so peaceful. His normal hardened face was relaxed and uncaring. Of course he had to be woken up by my phone ringing on the nightstand. I tried to let it go, and not think about it, but whoever was on the other end of the line was persistent. After the third time 'Stayin' Alive' played, I resigned to getting up and answering it. Trying my best not to disturb Seb too much, I slipped out of his arms.

"Oi," I said, and listened to what the network had to say.

It wasn't good news.

After registering what was being said, I left the room. This wasn't going to be quiet, or going to be pretty. And Basher was tired.

There was cussing, yelling, and plenty of death threats. Hanging up I threw the phone at the wall and kicked a chair. Calming down, I stood in the center of the room, and made up my mind. Storming into our bedroom, I dug out an old suit and got dressed.

"Moran, where are your throwing knives?"

He looked groggily at me, thinking for a moment. "Last time I checked, in the kitchen sink. They're still messy from the last mission you sent me on."

"That's fine." I left without another word, and headed out onto the streets of London. Hailing a taxi, I say to the cabbie, "Diogenes Club. And hurry."

It was a half hour ride without traffic, but when I arrive at the door, it's already unlocked for me. The network knows better than to get on my bad side any more tonight. Walking in, he's already sitting down. I smile.

"Well, Sherrinford Holmes. I hear you have information." He merely looks at me bleakly, without saying a word. As is custom. "And we all know that any man that sees me in person, is already dead." I smirk darkly at him, and he gulps. "Say goodnight, Mister Holmes." Of course he doesn't make a sound, as I draw the knife from the inside of my blazer, and move in closer.

xxx

Slamming the door to 44 Conduit Street, Sebastian wakes up suddenly and looks around, confused. "I wasn't sleeping." He squints and focuses on me. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Information was leaked, you were tired. I took care of it." I could already feel myself starting to slip. i knew this was a bad idea.

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter. He's dead."

"Alright," he says sitting up awkwardly. I take a deep breath, and go up to him.

"How do you control it." It wasn't a question.

"What?" His eyebrows furrow.

"The high after the kill." I look at him, with such intensity that I can't fathom how he misses it.

"Oh James Moriarty," he laughs. "After years with you, you get used to it." He flashes a crooked smile at me. Normally it would have driven me crazy. In a good way, at least. But right now, it only made me mad.

"Dammit Sebastian!" I yell. "That doesn't help me now." Noticing the nightstand a few feet away, I dig through the drawer to get to what I want. Finally, there. Picking up the handgun, I point it at him. "Give me a reason not to shoot."

Raising his hands slowly, he realizes the severity of the situation. "Jim, calm down." His voice is steady, but there's panic in his eyes. "Put the gun down."

"You don't tell me what to do." Alarm bells are going off in the back of my mind, but but Boss was taking over. There was nothing I could do about it, either. "But if you don't want me to pull the trigger," The click of the pistol's hammer clicks into place. "You'll give me a reason not to shoot." I repeat.

"I'm your right-hand man."

"You're replaceable." I spit. He winces at the comment.

"Jim, put the gun down." he pleads. 

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Oh honey," I begin. "You seem to forget your kitten is a psychopath." Taking a step closer, I continue. "Now, I've got blood on my hands, and if you don't want your own spilled, you'll give me a reason not to shoot."

"Jim, you're not stable right now."

"Oh, good, Moran can observe." He winces again.

"You won't have your tiger anymore."

I can feel that the comment has some effect, but I cannot bring myself to lower the gun.

"Who is going to stick with you through every plan and will always be one hundred percent loyal no matter what, if not me?" My face softens briefly, but hardens again quickly. He continues. "Who is going to say they love you and mean it if I'm not around?" His voice is pleading, but resolve seems to creep into his features. "Jim, I know you are crazed and on a high right now, but maybe my kitten can still hear me." Taking a breath, he steadies himself mentally, it seems. "I need you and I love you, but if you are really going to pull that trigger and kill me, let me make it easier for you."

He grabs my hand and raises the gun from his heart, so that the barrel is pressed against his forehead. At first I'm confused at the strange calm he seems to have adopted. But there was something in his words. Something that pulled me back into the world of sanity.

I crumple to the ground, dropping the gun and burying my face in my hands. A few seconds later, I hear him drop down next to me.

"Kitten?"

Sobbing, I try to make out words. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sebastian. I'm so sorry." He wraps his arms around me, and holds my head.

"I don't know what happened. I don't know." My body is wracked with shaking.

"It doesn't matter. We're both still here."

"It does matter! I won't be able to forgive myself. I'll never forgive myself."

"James Moriarty, don't you dare beat yourself up over this. I won't let you!"

I try to jump for the gun, but he restrains me. "Look at me James. Look at me." He takes my face in his hands, so I'm forced to look him in the eye. Tears are still streaking down my face. "That wasn't you, okay? I'm not going to let you fall. I will hold on to you and keep you with me. Forever."

I hold on to him as tightly as possible. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay kitten. It's okay. I've got you now."

xxx

Sebastian's POV

It had been a year since that fateful day. We had pretty much forgotten about it.

He was out at a meeting with the infamous Sherlock Holmes, yet had given me the day off. I found it odd, but I wasn't one to complain. I'm whistling to myself when my mobile buzzes. It's from Jim.

Dear Tiger  
I told you I could never forgive myself.  
-Kitten xxx

Tears immediately roll down my cheeks. I read and read and re-read the message, trying to find the lie in it. That this wasn't what I thought it was. It couldn't be. "No," I whisper. I'm not sure how long I stand there looking at the screen, it could have been minutes, or hours. But when I hear the gunshot, I take off running.


End file.
